The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) by Moore Deborah D

Author:Moore, Deborah D. [Moore, Deborah D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: prepper survivalist, prepper survival, survivalist, dystopian, prepper adventure, prepper, post apocalyptic survival, weather disasters, disaster survival, action suspense
Publisher: Permuted Press
Published: 2015-08-11T04:00:00+00:00

May 2

Sometime around midnight the rain stopped and a warm southern breeze picked up. By daybreak the tent was dry enough to pack. We headed north on this back road until we came to M-28 and once again turned west and toward the rift.

“We’ve made such good time Jim, even with the rain day, what do you say we stop in to see Annie and the kids?”

“That’s a good idea. I know they mean a lot to you. I got kind of fond of them myself,” he said. East of Munising he turned off onto 94 that would lead us to the new road along the rift and away from the first access bridge. The gravel and dirt road that paralleled the rift was muddy and slippery and slowed us down.

“Do you notice anything different about the new river? It doesn’t look as high as it did two weeks ago,” I observed. I had the chance to watch it more intensely than Jim, since he was concentrating on driving and avoiding water filled potholes.

There was a high spot in the road and grass was growing on the shoulder where Jim brought the Hummer to a stop. We both got out to look closer at the river. Jim hooked his fingers into the back of my belt, and I laughed.

“You’re right, it does look lower. With all the rain we had yesterday, one would think the river would be higher. I wonder if they’ve managed to finally slow the flow some.”

“It will be worth checking out after we cross back over,” I said. He let go of my belt when we backed away from the river’s edge.

The first pass we missed the narrow dirt road where Annie and Glenn lived and we had to backtrack. Pulling into the familiar driveway was a shock. The house was a smoldering pile of rubble with only the brick chimney standing. The lovely porch had half a charred railing and the front shrubs were scorched black.

As soon as Jim stopped, I jumped out of the Hummer. “Annie! Glenn!” I turned in a circle. “Jared! Jodie!” I started shaking.

“Annie! Glenn!” Jim bellowed. If they were anywhere around they would hear him. The only sound came from the chickens clucking inside the coop. By some miracle that building was spared and the chickens wanted out.

As we neared the coop, the door opened and a little redhead peeked out. “Allex?” said a tiny voice.

“Jared!” I almost wept with relief. Jodie rushed past him and threw herself at my legs. I bent down and picked her up. Her tiny arms circled my neck in a death grip. Jared looked up at Jim, his lip quivering, and raised his arms. Jim quickly picked up the little boy who started sobbing.

We set them down on the back bumper of the Hummer, facing away from the ruins, and got them some cool water to drink.

“Jared, can you tell us what happened?” I asked gently. It occurred to me that I had never heard Jodie utter a single word.

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